


The Mission's The Thing

by girlintheglen



Series: Illya's Days of April [10]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11389752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlintheglen/pseuds/girlintheglen





	The Mission's The Thing

Walking into Monkey House was like parting a mystical veil.  April and Illya were instantly in character the moment their feet touched the old hardwood floorboards that served as the first impression in this house of design.  If April thought Illya could act cold and reserved at times, she was surprised to find that he was capable of even stauncher behavior than what had been previously observed.  In a stark contrast to the night before he was now avoiding her touch, leering at the receptionist as though he might take her on the spot.  For a wife it was humiliating; for April it was an opportunity.  
  
Daryl Mulrooney appeared from behind a curtain that led into his workroom.  The front of the house was devoted to his designs, to finished pieces that were part of his new collection and as such, available for purchase.  He crossed the room to shake hands with Illya and give April a peck on the cheek, all very friendly and reminiscent of the previous night's clubbing activities.  If he had fantasized only slightly concerning the pretty wife of his former university acquaintance, something in the air this morning made him believe she might possibly respond favorably.  
  
"Good morning old man, you look a little like you've been up all night working.  April, you look lovely as always."  Daryl was handsome, no doubt about it.  April grinned at the greeting, extending her hand when Illya declined the courtesy.  
  
"Good morning to your Daryl.  As you can see we've brought Illya's portfolio and some photographs of his last collection.' April paused, partly for effect and to let Illya speak.  He cut his eyes towards her, an expression on his face that Daryl caught immediately and catalogued for his future purposes.  
  
"Um, darling, are you going to show Daryl the ...?"  Illya cut in, his tongue sharper than the toes on April's shoes.  
  
"Thank you April, I'm getting to it.  Why don't you go and entertain yourself with the pretty dresses, _luv,_ while Daryl and I conduct business."  
  
That got everyone's attention, and in that moment Mulrooney knew that April was his for the taking.  Kuryakin had always been a cold bastard, even back in University.  The Russian seemed not to have changed at all and was now taking out his disgruntled attitude on his lovely wife.  Not for long, if Daryl had his way.  
  
April looked stricken, but she nodded silently, putting her hand on Illya's sleeve in a conciliatory gesture.  He shrugged it off, not making eye contact with her again.  She looked at Daryl, a sad little smile on her face, then headed towards a rack of clothing.  Daryl was furious, but held his tongue.  He did want some of Illya's designs in his new line, and was willing, for now, to do nothing.  
  
The negotiations over the designs Illya brought to Monkey House went as well as they could considering the distractions offered by the conflict that Mulrooney had witnessed between the couple.  He wanted April now more than ever, and in spite of the fact that she was a married woman he was willing to try and take her away from an obviously unhappy marriage.  When the couple were ready to depart Daryl issued an invitation to a Sunday afternoon affair he was hosting at his country home.  His lineage had afforded him an estate that had been in his family for several generations, and he often had people for the weekend, including some of his new business associates.  
  
Illya readily accepted, kidding that perhaps he'd leave April at home.  He amended that quickly enough, aware that the point of this was to get Daryl into April's confidence as quickly as possible.  
  
"Thank you Daryl, we'll be there.  Oh, and do you mind if we bring a couple of our friends.  It so happens they'll be here in town and, being the greedy types we are don't want to miss either of your happenings."   It was brash and entirely the image Illya was hoping to create.  April withered slightly at the forwardness of the proposition, but Daryl, seemingly good natured, indicated that all were welcome.  It was going to be a very unstructured sort of day.  With that taken care of the couple departed, cold shoulders resolutely in place.  
  
The plan was to have Napoleon and Mark join them at Mulrooney's.  That would give double the opportunity to ferret out any clues as to his involvement with THRUSH.  It was also anticipated that there would be THRUSH attending, something for which each agent was now mentally preparing to deal with in addition to the 'unstructured' nature of their own affair.  In spite of the professionalism inherent in both Illya's and April's demeanor, Napoleon had an inkling that something had transpired between the two.  He was well aware of the young woman's attraction to his partner, and also of Illya's waning resolve to avoid women since his affair with Marian Raven had ended with such finality and, surprisingly, heartache.   
  
On the day of the big event, the four loaded into the green Volkswagon van and headed out into the rarified country air of landed gentry and entitlement.  Illya's socialist aesthetic was once again assaulted by the lack of apologies where the very rich were concerned, especially when they lived within shouting distance of their poorer neighbors.  Daryl Mulrooney came from such moneyed people, and his foray into design had been made that much easier because of numerous contacts whose money flowed freely towards their own.  Add to that the current atmosphere in the United Kingdom, especially in and around London, the swinging and hot blooded London that was home to a new breed of elite entertainers and artists.  Ruling the world had never been so colorful, or so deranged.  
  
The four UNCLE agents arrived to find dozens of vehicles lined up along a half mile of cobbled road that led to an impressive home of substantial size.  It was situated on a park, as they were called, of about two hundred acres.  Not the largest of these types of estates, but impressive nonetheless.  April slipped on her shoes and prepared to get out and walk to the house, but Illya continued on up the drive.  
  
"Are you going to park right in front of the house?"  Had she missed something?  
  
"They'll have a valet to park the cars.  At least they'd better, I'm not walking in from way back there."  He winked at her, he was ready to be as obnoxious as necessary to catapult her into the arms of Mulrooney; there was no room for being self-conscious in this business.  
  
"It's okay, luv, just let Mr. Kuryakin show us the way."  Mark chimed in from the second row of seats.  He for one was grateful the trip had ended, the vehicle they were in was not made for long road trips.  
  
Napoleon was unusually silent.  Something was bothering him about this entire set up, and he felt certain that THRUSH would be present, possibly prepared for them.  New intelligence on Mulroony had come in and in sharing it with the others the general consensus had been to proceed with caution.  April was the one who was almost immune from his more devious nature; it had been a stroke of luck for him to fall for the beautiful agent.  
  
"Illya, be careful.  Not only are you the competition, but if he's as cut throat as we've been led to believe you might be in real physical danger in here today."  Illya smiled and turned around to look at his partner.  
  
"Since when are we not in physical danger, my friend?"   
  
He was right, and all of them needed to be on their toes this day because it was not just any Sunday afternoon soiree.   
  



End file.
